


Hierarchy

by periwinklepromise



Series: MCU Kink Bingo [21]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Banter, Blow Jobs, Established Relationship, M/M, Office Blow Jobs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-27
Updated: 2019-03-27
Packaged: 2019-12-25 13:17:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 568
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18262091
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/periwinklepromise/pseuds/periwinklepromise
Summary: Clint is up to no good.What else is new?





	Hierarchy

**Author's Note:**

> For MCU Kink Bingo square G5: Clint Barton/Nick Fury

“Aye, aye, Director,” he snarked without any effort.

The retort was quick, just as instinctive. “Shut it, Hawkeye.”

Clint bowed instead, a deep sweeping thing with a flourish, but he kept his eyes up on Nick. Who did not look impressed.

He folded down to his knees. Moved forward slowly, maintaining eye contact. Nick had stopped glaring, but he didn't seem overly interested yet. More mildly curious. That was practically a bright green go-ahead, coming from Nick. 

But it was probably best to be sure, so he stopped just short of Nick's belt and let hot air fan out against him. Clint flicked his gaze up. Nick seemed to melt, just a bit.

And then he tangled his hand into Clint's hair and yanked him forward hard, ripping at the roots just the tiniest bit to press him tight against the front of his slacks, his excited gasp muffled. His blood pulsed down and pooled in his dick. He tried to move to undo Nick's pants with his teeth, but Nick wasn't budging, so he scrambled at the buttons with his fingers, deftly undoing them without needing to see his work. 

Clint managed to free Nick's cock from his pants, and then his head was pulled from Nick's warm thighs and onto his cock, and Clint moaned. Nick stopped directing him after that, but he kept his hand twisted tight in his hair, and Clint would tug against it every once in a while just to feel the sparks. He couldn't do as many tricks as he liked to do, just to tease and torture, but Nick didn't let him do this at work since that very first time when they'd just jumped each other's bones, so he should probably be quick

Nick was always in control, even when he was acting like he wasn't, so Clint moaning around his cock just meant that he breathed a little heavier than normal. Maybe his fingers twitched. Hard to be sure at a time like this. 

But they didn't have much time. So Clint pulled out all the stops, moving to Nick's favorite rhythym - swirled his tongue around the head, tugged at Nick's cock hard and rough with one hand, and clamped down on his own hard-on with the other, and it wasn't another minute before Nick was coming, a short spasm of his fingers as his warning, and he swallowed it all like he always did, because he didn't mind the taste, and he certainly didn't want either of them to be walking around with come stains on their clothes. 

Nick would never let him live it down, for one. 

And for another, there was tacky like wearing too much purple at one time for a grown man to even own … and then there was _tacky_. 

So he swallowed, and then he pressed down on the base of his cock until the pulsing went down enough for him to be able to stand and walk out of the room. In theory. He stood, he definitely had the standing part down, but the walking away might take a moment. 

Clint leaned back against the desk, side by side with Nick. “Well, that was fun.” He swiped at his mouth, checking for smears. 

“Don't let it happen again, Hawkeye.” Nick's voice was stark enough that he had to actually check his face – smirking and satisfied. 

“Aye, aye, Director.”

“Shut it, Hawkeye.”


End file.
